


bad things

by chiller (orphan_account)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Burning, Eye Trauma, M/M, Restraints, Torture, author is sorry, just bad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 18:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10197086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/chiller
Summary: Clancy doesn't want to play Lucas's games anymore. Lucas won't take no for an answer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all I just want to toss out there that I don't support or approve of any of the behaviors in this fic, and I certainly hope you don't support them either. I assume that if you're still reading this, you sought this kind of material out on your own and didn't stumble upon it accidentally. So I'm not going to give any more warnings except what's in the tags. 
> 
> Second, I'm not much of a writer and this is the first fic I've posted online, so I apologize for any mistakes. 
> 
> And finally, I don't know for sure if Clancy has a canon appearance, so just note that I describe him as roughly around the same age as Ethan. 
> 
> With that said, thanks for reading!

The room buzzed with the sound of a speaker coming to life. 

Then a mocking voice. "Don't tell me you've given up already. We only just got started! You still have so much more fun waiting for you. You wouldn’t dare waste the party I set up just for you, would you, Clancy?" 

"Fuck this, I'm done playing your sick games. I'm not going to finish your party. Let me out." 

"Hah, I don't think so. You have to win, fair and square. If you don't put some pep in your step pretty damn soon, I'll come in there and put some in ya' myself. Show a little gratefulness that I didn’t just electrocute you to death like our friend Hoffman." Lucas's voice was scratchy with static through the old speaker system, but the threat was clear. Solve the puzzle, or face the consequences. Based on everything else the young man had done to his victims, Clancy didn't doubt that he would follow through on his word. 

But still, the cameraman contemplated for a moment longer. To defy Lucas would be to risk his own life. If Clancy proved to no longer be of any entertainment, there was no use for keeping him around. Refusing to finish the game would be suicide. 

However, Clancy wasn't foolish. He knew the chances of completing this game with his life were slim. Through his quick decisions and daring risks, he had gotten lucky with all the other challenges he faced. But there was a limit to how many times you could bet with death and walk away the winner. 

He determined he had two options. Refuse to play, and, as Lucas had warned, suffer the consequences. Or, he could carry through with the puzzle around him and potentially live to participate in another torturous endeavor. Clancy's resolve was thinning, though, after each strenuous and agonizing game. If he managed to survive this party, would he be able to make it through another? Who's to say the next scheme Lucas has planned wouldn't be worse? The outlook seemed dim, and filled with death. 

"Tick tock, tickity tock! I don't have all day! Are you gonna move or what? Don’t make me come down there." The Baker son reminded his captive. There was obvious annoyance in his voice that was beginning to grow as Clancy continued to stall. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Clancy replied urgently, choking on the overwhelming feeling of dread inside him. He wanted more time to think, to come to peace with his inevitable death, but if Lucas's tone was any indication, it would be best for him to keep moving. Shaking the hesitancy from his mind, he determinedly pushed forward with the remnants of hope clinging to him. Maybe he would find better circumstances to resist as he progressed in Lucas's game. 

Clancy rifled through the items he had obtained during his exploration of the area he was locked in. He currently had a small telescope that he had washed with the shower in the doorway, and a wind-up key that he had pulled from a barrel in the birthday room. When he had tugged out the key from the barrel, he was mortified to see gasoline pour from the hole that had been plugged. Desperately Clancy had tried to cover the hole or plug it with something else, but the liquid drained so forcefully that he couldn't contain it. Now the barrel was all but empty, its contents spilled across the floor and seeping into the wood. The strong stench had made Clancy a little dizzy, so he chose to steer clear from that room and explore the rest of the complex. And besides, the notion of carrying a lighted candle in a room soaked in gasoline made Clancy's stomach clench with anxiety. 

The thought of the candle sparked an idea in Clancy. He set down his other collected items on the kitchen counter and took out the candle to examine it. He had noticed one of the doors in the complex was tightly tied shut with rope, which he had not been able to untie or tear. Maybe he was supposed to burn it with the lit candle? This progress made his insides whirl and he stepped over to the stove. 

Clancy turned the knob and waited for the flames before tilting the wick of the candle towards the fire. He watched as it lit, and then he turned off the stove. There was no use to leave it on, and it would only provide yet another danger. Then Clancy took his candle to the roped off door, and was pleased when the rope easily ignited. It burnt away while Clancy watched in apprehension. 

"Good boy." Lucas said through the speaker. An unpleasant chill ran through Clancy's body. 

When the last sparks of the burning rope had faded, Clancy opened the door. He was surprised to see a narrow hallway, littered with balloons that popped as he walked passed them. At the end of the hall was another locked door, with a 5 letter word combination. Clancy assumed his goal was to get the dummy to write out the code, after finding all the pieces he needed. Finally the game was becoming more clear. 

With an exasperated sigh at the lack of useful items, Clancy turned back towards the door he came from. As he moved, something yellow against the wall caught his eye and he froze, glancing down. It was a deflated balloon, which explained the pipe in the other room that was leaking gas. Suddenly understanding what he was meant to do, Clancy kicked a few gray balloons out of the way and picked up the yellow one. It was heavier than any deflated balloon should be, indicating there was something inside it. Before he continued on, Clancy tried to pry apart the balloon's opening to catch a glimpse of what was inside. 

"Don't do that. Or else you LOSE." Lucas commented, his frustration at Clancy's incompetence replaced with a newfound giddiness. "Ya gotta fill it up up up!"

"Right..." Clancy muttered as he began to head towards the pipe outside the hallway. In a few steps he was there, fitting the balloon hole over the pipe's mouth. Quickly it began inflating, and Clancy took a nervous step back as he saw pointed ends shaping the balloon from inside. Before he could make sense of that image and get very far away, the rubber popped and its contents shot out in every direction. 

"Fuck!" Clancy let out a startled gasp, stumbling backwards. He lifted his hands to protect himself just in time for a nail to propel directly into his outstretched left palm. Pain sped through his hand and arm, a miserable combination of burning and throbbing. Clancy swore again as he reflexively reached for the nail and gently tugged it out of his skin, groaning as the nail slid past bones and muscle. Hatefully he dropped it on the floor among the many other nails that could have impaled him. 

When Clancy looked down, a different object caught his eye. A feathered quill pen had lodged itself into his stomach, but luckily the wound didn't seem to be that deep. He took a large, steadying breath and then pulled the bloody pen out of his body, unable to contain another whine of pain. Clancy was too shocked to do anything other than stare at the fancy pen while blood oozed from his wounds. 

This cruel set-up reconfirmed Clancy's suspicions that Lucas was only going to increase the intensity of his games. If he continued, there was a high chance of more injuries and certainly death. By choosing to resist now, Clancy could, in the end, die on his own terms. Lucas could come in and kill him right now, and it would be by Clancy's choice rather than at the gruesome end of a futile puzzle. So Clancy made his decision as he cradled his aching hand. He was not going to be a pawn for Lucas to play with. He was ready to make his final stand, his last attempt to fight back. When Lucas came in to penalize Clancy, the cameraman would give every last amount of strength in his body to save his life. If he is unsuccessful in his fight against Lucas, then he at least knows he will not have to suffer any more. 

"Lucas," Clancy began, seething in anger, "I'm fucking done. I'm not finishing your game. I won't, I won't do it." 

The silence that followed was so long that Clancy started wondering if Lucas was no longer watching. Finally he heard the static of the speaker, and the heavy breaths from Lucas. 

"Fine. I warned ya'. I did, I warned you. You're gonna be sorry." 

The speaker shut off and the room was filled with silence again. 

Suddenly Clancy was filled with such an intense terror that he couldn't breathe. Had he made a mistake? Could he really fight against Lucas? Clancy put his uninjured hand out, grasping for something to steady himself with. His palm met the wall, and he remained hunched over and gasping for air while Lucas presumably made his way to the party room. He had to do this, it was the only way he had a chance at survival. 

Below him lay the scattered nails, and Clancy quickly snatched one up once he felt the panic subside. He would have one shot, one opportunity to jam the nail into Lucas and make a run for it. A revenge-fueled part of Clancy took enjoyment in deciding whether to stab Lucas in the eye or the jugular. He didn't have much time to consider before he heard the whirring sound of the heavy screen door being unlocked and opened. Hastily he chose the eye. 

"Clancyyy~" Lucas called out into the room, his voice laced with a sadistic thrill, "Oh, there is nothing better than the chase. Don't you think, Clancy?" 

"Go to hell, you sick fuck." Clancy growled back. There was no chase, he was cornered like a mouse. He was enraged that Lucas would mock his helplessness. 

"There you are!" Lucas teased from near the stove after turning the corner into the room. They were only a few yards away now, and Clancy turned his back to sprint into the hallway filled with balloons. He heard Lucas spring into action behind him. 

Clancy barely had enough time to shut the hall door behind him, and he immediately dug his heels into the floor and put his back to the door. A strangled yelp escaped his throat as Lucas slammed against the door with all his weight. The shove was so forceful that the door opened just an inch or two. It wouldn't be much of a struggle, considering Lucas's enhanced strength and Clancy’s weakness from all his other injuries. 

"I'll make it worse if you don't come out NOW!" Lucas threatened, his fingers creeping in the gap between the door and the frame. Clancy pushed back with every muscle in his legs, and felt a satisfied twinge when he heard Lucas's fingers crack. The Baker merely laughed in inappropriate amounts of glee. "You can't hurt me. You can't stop me." Lucas had managed to wedge his whole arm through the door now, and he was reaching for Clancy. 

Realizing his opportunity, Clancy slackened his legs just a bit so Lucas could squeeze his head through the door. As soon as Lucas was halfway into the hall, Clancy scrabbled for purchase with his legs and tensed all his muscles to trap Lucas against the door. The other man sneered as if the notion of being crushed was no threat, but Clancy could tell he had been caught off guard. 

Without wasting a second, Clancy twisted his body, releasing his hold on the door, and jammed the nail into the Baker's eye. His aim had been precise despite the chaos and uncertainty, and the rusty old nail protruded from Lucas's now bleeding eye. Lucas howled with fury but made no move to remove the nail or back off, like Clancy would have guessed. 

Instead, he used his renewed and rage-fueled strength to break the door straight off its hinges, causing dust and debris to swirl through the air. "You've really done it now, boy!" Lucas yelled as spittle flew from his mouth. 

Clancy had managed to narrowly dodge the falling door, stumbling further into the safety of the hallway. His heart was thudding in his chest, sweat dripping from his skin. But his mind was clear, and he knew what he had to do. 

In just seconds Lucas had stomped over the door and into the hallway, blood trickling down his face like a gory tear. Now he was blocking Clancy's path; he had the cameraman cornered. 

With a desperate shriek, Clancy charged at Lucas. He sprinted in the small distance of the hallway, arms outstretched in an imitation of a tackle. There were no other options now. If Clancy didn't play the offensive, he would be pushed farther into the hallway until he had nowhere left to go. His only choice was to attack. 

The two collided into a mess of clawing limbs and screeching mouths. 

Almost as if he had been expecting it, Lucas caught Clancy in his own deft arms, using his momentum to swing him out towards the main room. Clancy’s battle cry died on his lips as he was thrown like a doll through the air and landed crashing on the floor. He arched his back in pain as his bones took the brunt force of the fall. 

“You wanna play dirty, huh?” Lucas panted as he took heavy steps towards Clancy’s figure. “You’re tougher than you look.” The Baker stopped just above Clancy, towering over the smaller man’s frame. He lifted a muddy boot and stepped right on Clancy’s groin, pressing his weight down and making the other man whimper. Lucas held back on the urge to grind his heel down painfully. 

“Get away from me!” Clancy cried from his incapacitated position on the ground. He made a weak move to crawl away, but Lucas’s foot held him in place like a pinned bug. 

“Watch.” Lucas instructed eagerly, and then crouched down so he could straddle Clancy’s hips. He reached up slowly to his eye and wrapped his fingers around the edge of the nail stuck inside. Clancy turned his head as nausea flooded his body, but he was met with Lucas’s firm hand on his jaw to turn his head back. 

“I said watch.” The Baker growled threateningly, and this time Clancy obeyed. Lucas tore the nail from his eye with no hesitancy, and threw the bloody metal across the room. It hit the wall and clanked to the ground. Where the nail had been was a deep red, bloody hole in Lucas’s eye, cutting into the iris. His sclera was red with the blood that had seeped from the wound. And then Lucas began to laugh in a raspy, uneven wheeze. 

Clancy gave another fearful whimper and began to struggle. “You’re a freak!” He hissed as he thrashed his body in pure survival instincts, limbs flailing from underneath Lucas. His legs kicked pathetically, his heels knocking against the wood floor. His arms went to Lucas’s face, to tug at hair and claw at skin. Lucas, however, outweighed Clancy and easily took the upper hand. 

When Lucas had had enough of Clancy’s childish writhing, he backhanded the other man as hard as he could across the cheek. Clancy made no sound but instead choked on his breath, his body stiffening. Lucas took this distraction to grab both of Clancy’s wrists and slam them against the floor, effectively pinning the man’s hands on either sides of his head. At this, Clancy cried out in despair and gave one last final struggle, before stilling into submission. 

“Get off me, let me go...” A hopeless and terrified tone filled Clancy’s voice as he pleaded for mercy. “I just want to go home, I just want to live.” He sucked in deep, unsteady gasps as he fought back tears that threatened to spill. It seemed that there really was no way out, as hard as he fought Lucas. 

“It’s far too late for that. You belong to me, now. You’re part of the family.” Lucas responded, speaking with an emotion Clancy couldn’t pinpoint. “And something about that fight in you...mmhm...You’re special. You’re not like the other ones.” To make his dominance known, Lucas tightened his hold on Clancy and flipped him over onto his stomach. Lucas folded Clancy’s arms behind his back tightly, and then fumbled in his pants’ pocket for some leftover rope. He let out a pleased hum when he found just enough to tie Clancy’s wrists together. 

Clancy gave a few more half-hearted squirms, but now that his wrists were tied he felt the true hopelessness settle over him. There was really nothing he could do now except submit to the whim of the maniacal Lucas Baker. That realization made him sick, and he sobbed dryly against the wood floor. 

“Aww, don’t cry, this’ll be fun. We’re gonna play another game - house. I’ve always wanted a girlfriend. That Mia bitch is darn pretty but she doesn’t want me. Thinks she’s too good for me, says I’m crazy. But she’s the crazy one, and she’s stubborn too. So you can pretend to be my girlfriend instead! How does that sound?” Lucas said, his voice gruff but filled with excitement. 

“What? No, I don’t want to be your girlfriend, I don’t-” A cold fear started rising in Clancy’s belly as his adrenaline-fueled mind started putting the pieces together. 

Without wasting any time, Lucas silenced Clancy by grabbing a fistful of the man’s brown scruffy hair and yanking his head up and backwards. He leaned over the other’s arched body until his nose rested against Clancy’s neck. Clancy shuddered visibly when Lucas inhaled deeply. Lucas, almost tentatively, pressed his lips against the base of the cameraman’s neck and peppered it with wet kisses and nibbles.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Clancy snarled to cover his terror. He jerked his head hard to the left, but Lucas’s hold was so tight that the pull on his hair made him see spots. Frantic and illegible sounds fell from his lips as he resumed his struggle with a newfound energy. Lucas simply waited for Clancy to wear himself out before moving to the other side of his neck to give it the same treatment. This time, he bit down on the soft flesh to draw blood and sucked on the wound, much to Clancy’s dismay. When Lucas pulled away, an angry hicky had formed and the Baker grinned in satisfaction. 

Then Lucas finally released his hold on Clancy’s hair and let the man’s upper body fall back to the floor. Clancy yelped in pain as his forehead collided with the hardwood. As he caught his breath, he felt Lucas’s fingers, including the broken ones, slip underneath the band of his pants. This really set off Clancy’s panic, but he was too tired to physically fight anymore. 

“Don’t, fuck, please. Don’t do this.” He begged between harsh breaths. Lucas’s only reply was to tug Clancy’s pants and underwear down past his ass cheeks. The cool, damp air of the room hit Clancy’s exposed skin and goosebumps prickled along his arms. Lucas pulled harder at the cameraman’s pants, his movements growing erratic as the jeans didn’t slide down with ease. 

Lucas’s body trembled with excitement to a point where he was unable to remove Clancy’s clothes. Impatiently, he flipped his captive over again so Clancy was on his back. Clancy murmured in pain as his arms were twisted and crushed underneath his own weight, pressing down on his wound from earlier. 

“That’s better.” Lucas said as he resumed his job of stripping Clancy. He left the other man’s shirt on, but took off everything below the waist. And then Lucas took his place on top of Clancy, straddling the smaller man’s bare hips. He studied Clancy intently with his remaining good eye, his pupil blown wide. Clancy turned his head away in the shame of being exposed. 

Lucas then moved on to Clancy’s torso, where he lifted the other’s shirt until it was bunched up by his shoulders. He placed his hands flat on Clancy’s pale belly, which was heaving in distress. 

“Get your filthy hands off me.” Clancy said, meeting Lucas’s gaze with an intense fury. 

“Are you sure you don’t want my hands? I can use something else.” Lucas licked his lips. 

Clancy’s eyes widened and he began to shake his head, but Lucas had already lowered his mouth to Clancy’s stomach. He licked a long stripe from Clancy’s belly button to his nipples, before clamping down on a pink bud with his teeth. 

“Ah! Stop!” Clancy twisted from side to side as Lucas rolled his nipple between his teeth. Sparks of sickly sweet pleasure radiated from his chest and Clancy bit down on his lip to stifle any pathetic noises that he might make. Lucas continued to ravish Clancy’s chest and stomach for a few more minutes, in a dance of pain and pleasure. When he finally pulled back, the skin was covered in red blotches, scratch marks, and spit from the violent attention Lucas had given it. 

It was clear now that Clancy was using quite a bit of energy just to keep breathing. All he could do was lay still and try to focus on something else. If he so much as shifted his weight, pain stabbed through the hole in his hand. He was beginning to wish that he had let the party game kill him. 

The sound of a zipper made Clancy’s entire body run cold, and he lifted his head in time to see Lucas pulling out his already semi-hard cock. A moan of fear fell from Clancy’s lips and he tried to bring his thighs together, but Lucas’s bulk had them pinned apart. 

“No, no, pleasepleaseplease don’t do this, Lucas.” Clancy’s whimpered, breathy and high pitched. He let his head fall back on the ground so he wouldn’t have to watch Lucas’s next move, and his eyes stared at the ceiling. 

“But you’re my girlfriend, remember? This is how the game works.” Lucas said. He grinned as if he knew his excuse was total bullshit. He reached down slowly to further push Clancy’s thighs apart, and then quickly slid between them. He lifted the other’s legs so they rested on his hips. 

“Don’t!” Clancy cried when he heard the unmistakable sound of Lucas spitting into his palm. He heard the other man fumble for a moment, making brief wet noises as he presumably brought himself to a full erection. The suspense made Clancy ill but he couldn’t bear to look up. He stiffened, his body tightening and clenching, when he felt a pressure nudge against his asshole. 

“Oh god, oh fuck.” Clancy bit down harder on his lip as he braced for the pain he knew was coming. Lucas hadn’t prepped him, and Clancy had never been with a man. The only lube Clancy got was Lucas’s spit, which would have dried already. He didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t anything good. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as Clancy’s teeth pierced his lip.

Lucas gave a brief half-chuckle as he held Clancy’s hips to steady himself, and thrust his whole length inside in one hard movement. Clancy threw his head back and screamed. The pain, like a heated brand pulled straight from a fire, split him in two. The initial thrust had been too fast, too forceful, too dry, and now Clancy’s ass burned where it was likely torn.

“Oh, shit, you’re really fuckin’ tight.” Lucas commented breathily. He only stilled for a moment as he adjusted to the tight heat. “I knew you were special.”

Tears rolled down Clancy’s cheeks even though his eyes were squeezed shut. 

Lucas pulled out completely after a few seconds, and then slammed back in Clancy’s shaking body before the smaller man had even recovered from the first thrust. Clancy screamed again, his shoulders thrashing and the pain of his hand long forgotten. 

“Stop, please, stop, it hurts- fuck!” Clancy’s head turned quickly from side to side, his cheeks wet and lips bloody. Lucas did stop again, but only for another moment, to admire the mess he had created of Clancy. But the respite was brief and Lucas resumed his movements in a matter of seconds. 

“Keep begging, I like it when they cry.” Lucas growled breathily. Each erratic jerk of his hips was pure agony, and Clancy cried out every time his captor aggressively slammed in. Eventually the rhythm became smoother as Clancy’s blood slicked the passage. Their bodies rocked together on the floor to the pace of Lucas’s thrusts.

This continued for what felt like an eternity, until Lucas abruptly stopped for an unknown reason. Clancy had stopped struggling and making noise, and now lay unresponsive with unfocused eyes. When he felt Lucas still, he wondered if he had made it to the end of the ordeal, if he had maybe slipped away during some of it. But then Lucas spoke. 

“It’s no fun when you lay there like a mannequin.” Lucas tapped his chin in mock thought. “I got it!” He exclaimed as a dark look passed over his gaze. He slid out of Clancy but still hovered over him. “Get up.” 

“Mhnn, what?” Clancy looked at Lucas in frightened confusion as his brain struggled to pull itself together again. 

Lucas jumped to his feet, his still erect cock bobbing from the movement. He reached down and grabbed Clancy by the shirt before hauling him to his feet as well. 

“No, no more, please. I can’t.” Clancy begged, stumbling on shaky legs, as Lucas began dragging him towards the stove. Pain shot through his rear whenever he put pressure on his legs, and so it was a relief when he was shoved against the stove, his back to Lucas. Clancy’s limp prick was squished between his body and the stove, since Lucas forcefully pressed himself against Clancy to hold him still. 

“What are you doing?” Clancy asked with a shaky voice. Once again his hands were crushed between his own body and Lucas’s. 

“Giving you a little spark…” Lucas answered with a devious laugh. With one hand he reached in front of Clancy and turned the knob on the stove, and the flame immediately came to life. He returned that hand to Clancy’s hip, and used his other hand to hold the back of Clancy’s neck. Lucas steadied Clancy before sliding his length back into him. 

This time, Clancy only grimaced and clenched his teeth. His ass was raw and chafed from the relentless slam of Lucas’s hips, and he could feel the blood still oozing from his insides. His whole body throbbed in misery. 

The cameraman felt his stomach churn in miserable dread as Lucas’s hand on his neck started to press down. The Baker was starting to push Clancy towards the flame as he bent him over the stove. 

When Clancy realized what Lucas was trying to do, his pleas from earlier resurfaced. “Don’t! Lucas, please! Why are you doing this?” He resisted as hard as he could, but with his arms bound and legs weak he had little to no support. His stomach muscles only held him up for a moment before Lucas’s strength won out. 

As soon as Clancy gave in and his chest touched the stove, Lucas folded himself over the cameraman to hold him down with his weight. Pain rocketed through his wounds. Lucas’s hand remained on Clancy’s neck while the other had dropped to squeeze the flesh on Clancy’s thigh. 

At first the warmth of the flame was comforting, but then when Clancy couldn’t move, it began to burn. His body jerked on instinct, to get away from the fire, but he was securely held in place by the man on top of him. There was no escape from the hungry fire below him.

“Lucas, let me up!” Clancy pleaded as the flames licked his stomach, searing stripes of hot flesh. The pain was building as the fire began to damage his skin and his flesh began to blister. It stung, it bit, it clawed. There were knives in his stomach, broken glass, acid. The pain was overwhelming, swallowing him, consuming him. He still twitched and spasmed underneath Lucas, but he was simply not strong enough to lift himself away from the flame. Instead he was forced into stillness, trapped between the spear inside him and the fire that dug into him.

Finally Clancy screamed, his throat hoarse from when he had cried out many times earlier. The stabbing heat had spread through his whole body, pinpointed to where his stomach was held against the stove. 

Lucas had stopped erratically thrusting and instead buried himself as deep as he could go inside Clancy’s body. The larger man was groaning as his orgasm approached. He put one hand on Clancy’s hip and ground into the tight passage. Lucas’s cock bumped something inside Clancy that made the cameraman howl and thrash, and so Lucas slammed against the spot over and over. Clancy’s body vibrated underneath him in pure exhaustion and abuse, from unwanted and overwhelming pleasure, from agonizing pain. Finally, Lucas gave one last thrust of his hips before spilling his seed inside of Clancy. The Baker rode out his orgasm with a slow grind, moaning into the nape of Clancy’s neck. 

Clancy was still screaming when Lucas turned off the fire and pulled him back up by his hair. 

Lucas was panting heavily, biting and sucking at Clancy’s neck again. He remained inside Clancy while the satisfaction of the fuck began to fade. Lucas put his hand over Clancy’s burn, which was raw, bleeding and bubbling. Clancy sobbed. 

Finally Lucas pulled out and turned Clancy around. The cameraman’s eyes were hazy as tears poured down his cheeks, his lips bloody and scabbed from being bitten. His abused body trembled in shock from the torture it had endured. Lucas thought it was beautiful. 

“Just kill me.” Clancy whispered without lifting his eyes from the floor. He hurt so much, inside and outside, and he didn’t think he could live with these memories. He just wanted the agony in his mind and body to stop. “Please, Lucas, kill me.” He was sorry for ever trying to escape, for ever agreeing to come to this place. 

“But Clancy, I can’t kill you just yet! Didn’t you have fun? We still have so many more games to play. I really enjoyed that, I want to see what else you have to offer.”

Clancy cried out in distress and he shook his head rapidly. No, no, no, nonononono. His vision swam and shook around him. His world was closing in. Slowly, he shut his eyes and let the darkness take him. As Lucas stepped away and Clancy’s broken body hit the floor, he heard one last thing before his consciousness faded into black. 

“Happy Birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you made it. 
> 
> I have another thing to note- I don't know what was actually in the barrel in the party room, but when I saw the fire I assumed gasoline. That might be wrong but it still makes sense. 
> 
> And then honestly tell me if I should continue this? More suffering?   
> Thanks!


End file.
